Naura

by Ditter Kellen

  “Well, it’s a hut surrounded by coconut trees,” he explained. “There are supplies in the cupboards, towels and sheets in the hall closet. The white switches on the inside of each door will turn on the lights. I’m sure you know how to work the shower.”

  “Yes. I have been taught.”

  “Good. Then I’ll see about getting you some clothes that fit.” His gaze raked over her in humor. “You can’t very well wear that getup around here without drawing attention to yourself.”

  Naura blushed. “I am sorry about my attire. I know that it is not customary for humans to wear sharkskin in public.”

  Miguel laughed, displaying a set of white, even teeth. “It’s not customary to wear sharkskin in private either.”

  “Yes, I-I knew that. It is all that I had.”

  “Lighten up, sweetie. I’m only teasing you. Go on inside and make yourself at home. I’ll be back later with some new duds.”

  “Duds?”

  “Clothing. It’s slang for clothing.”

  Naura sent him a small smile. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Miguel.”

  He nodded and strode off through the trees, fading into the dark and leaving her alone in the moonlit yard.

  Naura quickly climbed the steps and opened the door to the coco hut, feeling along the inside of the wall for the switch Miguel had mentioned.

  The lights came on instantly, bathing the room in a warm glow. Naura’s breath caught as she took in her surroundings.

  Chairs stuffed with brightly colored cushions sat around the room in no particular order, and a couch perched beneath the window, facing a large television situated on the opposite wall.

  Closing the door, Naura ventured into the kitchen and checked the cupboard. She plucked a small green and silver can from a shelf and held it up to her nose.

  “Human food has no scent,” she muttered aloud, turning the can over to look for a way inside.

  She returned the unappealing food and meandered off in search of the bathroom.

  Naura unlaced her damp clothing and peeled them down her legs before turning on the water and climbing over into the bathtub.

  “Naura? What are you doing in Cuba?”

  Vaulcron’s mental demand caught her off guard, and she answered him without hesitation. “I needed peace, brother. Do not tell the others where I have gone.”

  “You better have a good reason for leaving without notifying anyone. Tony is not handling it very well. He is angry and prowling the halls, unable to be approached.”

  Naura’s stomach clenched. “He will be fine once he has had time to adjust to my absence.”

  Vaulcron mentally sighed. “I do not think so, my sister. The man is showing signs of mental sickness. I am close to removing his tongue.”

  “Do not harm him, Vaulcron. He is feeling guilty for hurting me. He will return to his normal brooding self in no time.”

  A growl rumbled through their link. “He harmed you?”

  Naura rubbed at her weary eyes. “Not in the way that you think. He did not physically hurt me.” She intentionally left out the loss of her virginity. That had been her choice and no one’s business but hers and Tony’s.

  “What shall I tell the king of your absence?”

  “Tell him that I am safe and that I am with Miguel.”

  “As you wish, Naura. But know that if you do not return soon, I will be forced to come there and retrieve you.”

  “I am not a child, Vaulcron. I will return when I am ready to do so.” With that, she shut down their connection.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tony paced the hall outside Vaulcron’s room, waiting for the Bracadyte to emerge. If anyone knew of Naura’s whereabouts, it would be one of her brothers—and Tony had already checked with Hauke.

  “You may come in,” Vaulcron finally called out.

  “Jesus. What took you so long?” Tony rushed inside, brushing past Vaulcron to check his bedroom. “Where is she?”

  “Would you rather I invited you in to watch me dress?” Vaulcron took a seat. “Whom are you searching for?”

  Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You know damn well who I am looking for. Your sister. Where is she?”

  Vaulcron shrugged a massive shoulder. “What do you want with Naura?”

  “I need to talk to her, Vaulcron. If you know where she is, damn it. Tell me.”

  “You are connected to her. Why not ask her?”

  Tony flattened his palms on the table and leaned in close to the Bracadyte’s face. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that already?”

  Indecision flickered in Vaulcron’s eyes. “She asked that I not divulge her location. She is hurt and confused, Tony. If I tell you of her whereabouts, I fear she will only run again and shut me out as well.”

  Tony slowly straightened. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. She wants something from me that I’m not sure I can give her.”

  “Then why not let her go? She will eventually accept your decision. Whatever that might be.”

  “I can’t,” Tony growled. “Not until I talk to her. I need to see her.”

  Vaulcron ran a hand down his face in obvious defeat. “She is in Cuba.”

  Tony’s heart kicked up a notch. “What the hell is she doing in Cuba? Is she alone?”

  “She is with Miguel.”

  Jealousy, swift and strong, tightened in Tony’s gut.

  Tony had spent most of the past year with Miguel in Playa Pilar, hiding from the United States Government. He was no stranger to Miguel’s reputation with women, and neither were the native beauties that frequented the guy’s hut.

  “Naura is alone with Miguel Salvador?”

  “He will not harm her, Anthony Vaughn. This I do not doubt.”

  Tony shook his head and rushed toward the door. “Of course he won’t harm her, Vaulcron. He’ll seduce her.”

  Vaulcron jumped to his feet and trailed after Tony into the hall. “Where are you going?”

  “To bring her back!” Tony yelled over his shoulder.

  The sound of Vaulcron’s boots began to echo off the walls, telling Tony that he followed. “You will never make it to Cuba, Anthony. The military swarms the surface for miles.”

  Tony slowed his steps as Vaulcron’s words sank in. He stopped and faced the giant male. “I know that, damn it. I’m not thinking straight.”

  A thought suddenly struck Tony. Resting his hands on his hips, he stared Vaulcron in the eyes. “Call her home.”

  “She will not listen to me, Anthony. She has shut me out.”

  Frustration welled up inside Tony’s chest. “Then contact Miguel.”

  “What shall I say to Miguel?”

  “Tell him that Naura is needed in Aukrabah. That it’s an emergency. Her mother’s sick or something.”

  Vaulcron narrowed his eyes. “You want me to lie to Miguel?”

  “If that’s what it takes to bring her home,” Tony ground out through clenched teeth. “Say what you have to.”

  “It will only hurt her more if we lie to her.”

  Tony turned to go. “I’ll take that chance. At least I’ll know she’s safe.”

  * * * *

  Bruce Ortega entered the morgue on the basement floor of St. Mathews General Hospital.

  Bodies were being wheeled out by overworked orderlies and taken to local funeral homes to be cremated, due to the nature of death and the bacterial threat they posed.

  But Bruce hadn’t come to the morgue to witness its carnage. He’d come to say his goodbyes.

  “Hi, Frazier,” Bruce called out to the pathologist currently examining a deceased male. “How’s it going down here?”

  Frazier looked up from his task with a bleak expression, exhaustion evident on his face. “Not too good, Doctor Ortega. It seems to be growing worse by the day.”

  Bruce moved toward the end of the examining table and lifted the tag hanging from the dead man’s toe. He glanced back at Frazier. “Meaning?”

  “The cause of death is different from the other
Incola victims.”

  That caught Bruce’s interest. “How so?”

  Frazier removed his gloves and trailed over to the sink to wash his hands. “This one’s lungs hemorrhaged, drowning him in his own blood.”

  “But didn’t the other victims hemorrhage also?”

  Frazier nodded and dried his hands. “From the brain, yes. They were unaware of their condition due to the extensive nerve damage to the frontal lobe, presenting rabid behavior and dementia.”

  The pathologist pointed to the man on the table. “This guy had the same brain damage and rabid symptoms, but suffered an excruciating death by drowning. And that’s not all. He died within days as opposed to weeks.”

  Bruce lowered his head in defeat. No matter how hard they pushed to save lives, the Incola virus always won.

  Lifting his head, Bruce blew out a weary breath and turned toward the refrigerated drawers lining the back wall. “Where can I find Doctor Sutherland’s body?”

  Frazier ambled toward the stainless steel drawers and pulled one open. “I’m sorry for your loss, Doctor Ortega.”

  “Please call me Bruce.”

  “Will you be identifying him, then?”

  Bruce gave a quick nod and eased the sheet back from Henry’s cold body. “He has no living relatives.”

  Frazier grabbed the clipboard and offered it to Bruce. “If you will just sign next to the X and print your name and relationship to the deceased…” His voice trailed off.

  Bruce scrawled his name on the line and added family friend in the appropriate place before handing the clipboard back to the pathologist.

  “Will you be making funeral arrangements, or would you like for me to handle it?”

  “I’ll take care of it once I locate his will. I have no idea if he wanted a cremation or a burial.”

  Frazier appeared uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “I hate to sound as if I’m rushing you, but we are out of room down here and could use the space.”

  Bruce tightened his jaw in anger. Henry Sutherland fought with everything he had to find a cure for the damn Incola virus while he lived, and even in death it seemed he fought it still.

  “I’ll have him moved as soon as possible.”

  Frazier replaced Henry’s sheet and pushed his drawer closed. “I appreciate that.”

  Bruce turned to go as an orderly wheeled another body into the room. He glanced back at Frazier on his way to the door. “Call me if you find another case similar to lung hemorrhage. It’s important.”

  “Will do,” Frazier murmured, already snatching up a pair of gloves and waving for the orderly to roll the body to a designated spot.

  How was he going to tell Abbie about her father? Bruce wondered, fishing out his keys from his coat pocket. He had no clue where to begin looking for her.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Naura jumped as a knock sounded on her door. She laid down the remote after spending the last several minutes trying to figure out how to turn on the television and padded barefoot across the room. “Who is there?”

  “It’s Miguel. May I come in?”

  Disengaging the lock, she pulled the door open and stepped back to allow him entrance.

  He trailed inside, holding a tray of some delicious-smelling food in one hand and a large white bag in the other. “As promised, I brought you some clothes. I figured you might be hungry also.”

  Naura’s stomach growled on queue. “Thank you. I am starved.”

  Miquel set the tray of food on the coffee table and handed her the bag. “I hope they fit. I guessed you to be a size six.”

  “I do not understand sizes, but I am certain they will do nicely.”

  “Go ahead and change into something dry and comfortable while I get your food ready.”

  Naura thanked him once again before running off to the bedroom to search through her new clothes.

  She settled on a bright yellow sundress and soft white sandals.

  Running a brush through her nearly dry hair, she fluffed her long tresses and returned to the front room to find Miguel seated on the couch.

  “The food smells amazing,” Naura voiced, taking a seat next to him. “You are too kind.”

  “Nonsense. It’s nothing more than any good host would do. Would you like to watch some television?”

  Naura nodded, picking up the plate he’d prepared for her. “I attempted to operate the remote like Tony had shown me, but I could not get it to work.”

  The feel of Tony’s name on her lips brought back the ache in her chest.

  Miguel pressed a button on the remote, bringing the television to life.

  “Wait,” Naura rushed out as he moved to press another button. “That is Abbie’s sire.”

  Miguel turned up the volume in time for Naura to hear the words “passed away.”

  A beautiful blonde woman talked into a black object she held in her hand and stared straight into Naura’s eyes. Or so it seemed to Naura.

  “Cause of death is unknown at this time,” the blonde stated, pointing to the hospital behind her. “All we have been able to gather is that he was apparently in some kind of a fishing accident. We’ll hopefully have more details once any remaining family has been notified. As far as we know, Abbigail Sutherland was his only child.”

  She continued to speak, but Naura no longer listened. She needed to get word to Abbie about her father’s death.

  “Are you all right?” Miguel asked, touching her on the shoulder.

  Naura set her plate back on the coffee table. “That man on the television. The one who died? That is Abbie’s sire.”

  “Yes, I know. I saw a clip about it on another channel about twenty minutes ago. Normally something such as that wouldn’t show on our local news stations, but the Incola virus has become a household name since the discovery of the first Incola-related death. And Doctor Sutherland happened to be one of the first people to take samples from Hauke. Naturally, he’s a man of interest to the entire world.”

  Naura quickly stood. “I must go. It will take me many hours to return to Aukrabah.”

  “There’s no need to leave just yet.” Miguel took hold of her hand and tugged her back down to the couch. “I have already notified Hauke of his mate’s father, Naura. Abbie knows.”

  Naura fought the tears that threatened. “I do not wish for her to be alone in her grief.”

  “She has Hauke and their son to comfort her. At least wait until the morning. If you still want to leave, then I will take you as far as I safely can. Please, finish your dinner.”

  Indecision warred within Naura. She knew what Miguel said was true. Abbie did have Hauke and Arcanum. She also had her Uncle Tony. As if he would be much help, Naura thought with an inner sigh. Tony wasn’t capable of emotional support.

  “You are correct, Miguel. There is nothing I can do tonight for Abbie. I will stay for a while longer.”

  Miguel patted her hand. “A wise choice. The Navy has ships and submarines scattered throughout the gulf in search of Aukrabah. You shouldn’t risk being seen.”

  Naura picked up her plate and set it on her lap. “Thank you again for dinner, Miguel. It smells delightful.”

  * * * *

  Abbie lay in Hauke’s arms as tears spilled down her face to drip onto his bare chest.

  He’d been holding her for the past hour, murmuring words of comfort.

  Henry was dead.

  Memories of their last days together haunted Abbie. The conflict, strife, and betrayal all melded together to fan the flames of her sorrow.

  “Please, do not cry, my mate. It hurts my heart to watch you suffer this way.” He brushed her hair back and placed his lips against her temple. “What can I do to take away your pain?”

  “You already relieve the pain, my love. Just by being here.”

  The sound of footsteps stopping outside the entrance to Hauke and Abbie’s room brought her head up.

  Laurel’s voice called out. “May we come in?”

  “Of course,” A
bbie returned, wiping at her eyes and moving to sit up in bed.

  Klause entered the bedroom with Laurel by his side. The king spoke in a deep, soothing tone. “I came to offer my condolences, mate of my son. I am deeply sorry for the loss of your sire.”

  Abbie gazed into the king’s jade-green eyes—eyes that reminded her so much of Arcanum’s. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The king appeared taken aback. “Your Majesty? What happened to Klause?”

  The corner of Abbie’s mouth lifted, which seemed to be the desired effect.

  “You are the only one besides my children and wife that can get by with referring to me as Klause.”

  “I appreciate you not having me beheaded for it.” Abbie found herself teasing.

  Klause’s lips twitched. “Since I am now your father in every since of the word, I suppose I will allow you to keep your head.”

  “Much appreciated, Dad.”

  The king slapped a hand to his forehead in feigned offense.

  Laurel sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped Abbie in a hug. “The king and I are here for you. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to call on us.”

  Abbie adored Hauke’s parents. They had accepted her into Aukrabah, loved her, and treated her as if she were one of their own children. They showered her and Arcanum with gifts brought back from the surface and always made sure she had plenty of human food to eat.

  “I love you both,” Abbie whispered against Laurel’s cheek. “Thank you for being such wonderful parents.”

  Laurel pulled back, a suspicious moisture evident in her light emerald eyes. “We love you too, dear one.”

  The queen stood and leaned over Arcanum’s crib, brushing her lips tenderly across his chubby cheek before facing Abbie once again. “Would you like for us to take him to our quarters for the night? You appear as if you could use some sleep.”

  Abbie sent the queen a grateful smile. “If you don’t mind. But he will be hungry again in a few hours.”

  “I will return him to eat when it is time. Try to get some rest.” Laurel gently lifted Arcanum from his crib and wrapped his little body in a blanket.